


Pain is an illusion of the senses. Despair is an illusion of the mind.

by keepfacepalm



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Eichen | Echo House, M/M, Mates, Rituals, Steter Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-25
Updated: 2014-10-25
Packaged: 2018-02-22 14:39:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2511353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keepfacepalm/pseuds/keepfacepalm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A year after s4. Stiles is training to be an emissary. In order to understand what his soul is missing, he performs a ritual, which gets him inside Peter's mind.<br/>Who is imprisoned in Eichen House with very unpleasant company.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pain is an illusion of the senses. Despair is an illusion of the mind.

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by awesome cyberratting.

After the first year of training young emissaries-to-be should go through a ritual that will help them to understand themselves better – because an emissary brings balance, and first and foremost he or she should find that balance inside themselves.

That’s why, after three long weeks of meditations, Stiles is holding a goblet with clear liquid and mentally prepares himself for the most important step in his life.

He is kneeling in rune circle – there are candles all around and the air smells of something earthy and fresh. He will drink, and he will see what he needs to do in order to find a balance – to find out what his soul lacks, what he will need to accept himself and be accepted by this world.

He knew almost from the beginning that there is something that does not allow him to connect to his power. Unbalanced, Deaton had said. He also explained that it is perfectly normal – that people usually are unbalanced. True druids are not, though, and that was exactly what made them special.

Stiles takes a deep breath and brings the goblet to his mouth. He is ready to find out the first and most important secret of druidic power.

He smiles and swallows down the potion.

Then darkness envelops him.

 

There is a heartbeat in the dark. Someone’s heart beats erratically; like that someone is struggling to breathe, struggling for his life. Stiles is drowning in the despair and pain surrounding him. He is unable to move.

And then he hears a voice.

“Left behind again. Left alone again. Left to fate worse than death. Again.”

There is a screeching, unpleasant laugh.

“Oh, Peter. It’s been more than a year since you’ve been thrown in here for me to prey upon, and you’re still not broken. But I can see that you’re clutching to the last shreds of your sanity. Soon, soon. Ah. It will be a shame to lose you, but how can I deny myself the pleasure to break such an iron will?”

Stiles feels something alien in his mind, like mental tentacles, and it is so disgusting, so unnatural, so horrible. Tentacles are stroking his thoughts, and he wants to howl in panic; he wants to get away, to throw up, but he can’t.

“A wolf without a pack. How vulnerable you are. How easy to tear apart. All your knowledge of how to protect yourself from a telepath wouldn’t help you without the power of a pack to back you up – without the power of an Alpha. But you don’t have either, do you, my precious victim?”

The voice coos at him, and Stiles swears that he had never been that scared and helpless in his life. Even the Nogitsune hadn’t been that terrifying. It had mostly wrought chaos around him – he had just been an instrument, an amusing bonus. Here, though, he was the sole focus of a tormentor who got his dirty hands into his very soul, into his deepest thoughts.

“You just wanted power to protect yourself, didn’t you? Because you perfectly well knew that no one else would do it. Not your nephew, or your so-called pack. They will die for each other, but not for you, never for you. No matter how valuable you are, no matter how much you know. They just don’t like you. They wouldn’t forgive you for what you did when you were not in your right mind, for what you did while having no control over your body, over your instincts.”

“But how they coddled the human boy after he had been possessed! How they called him a hero for surviving it! How they repeated again and again that it had not been his fault! It was stronger than him, and he fought it, and he is all better now – a bit broken, but better. Who wouldn’t be after such an awful experience? They cut him quite some slack.”

“Tell me, Peter, have you ever thought why no one ever told something like that to you? Because let’s be real, you can’t be blamed for the Hale Fire. It had not been your fault that you and almost everyone you held dear was burned alive. It had not been your fault that those who survived ran and left you behind. It had not been your fault that you’ve lost your mind – everyone knows that omegas become unstable very quickly. But omegas who are injured so bad that they cannot even move, who are trapped in their own mind, reliving the most horrible moment of their life all over again for years, who are left behind and betrayed by their own family, the same people who were supposed to help them heal, to love them, to protect them…”

“You had no chance of keeping your sanity. Funny how it turned out to be your fault, isn’t it? The boy, the hero, surrendered just after a few days. Tell me, Peter, how many _years_ did you keep fighting? Kept hoping that your pack would come back? That everything would be alright? That they’d love you, that they’d help you?”

“I can see your memories. I can feel them. Your hope died so slow and painful. But you’re so strong. You fought for so long. Such a shame that it got you nowhere, don’t you think? Such a shame, that everyone who loved you is dead.”

Stiles wants to scream, wants to unhear it, wants to call it a lie. But he knows, and that is the worst, that this is all true. Because nothing hurts like the truth, and this truth tears his heart apart.

“So, so strong, so smart. You were able to defeat death itself. You were able to put back your fractured mind. You were able to reign in insanity, bloodlust, and madness. And to do it alone, without any help… To be honest, I admire you, Peter. I can’t fathom why no one else ever noticed that you’ve done the impossible. But they blamed you for sins that are not yours and didn’t want to see your virtues. What a shame. What a shame.”

Stiles is wailing inside his own mind. He tries to drown the voice in his screams, but it doesn’t work. Every word is imprinting itself in his brain to never be forgotten. And it only gets worse.

“And do you know why you always liked the human boy best? No? Then let me tell you. Broken and burned out, you subconsciously recognized your mate. Why are you so surprised, Peter? Is it really so hard to see that he is the second half of your soul? You are so alike. You love your family so fiercely. You are so smart, so thirsty for knowledge. You can understand and predict each other, and how have you missed that sign? But you didn’t recognize him.”

“And now he’ll never know that the second half of _his_ soul, his only chance of true happiness, is fighting for his sanity for the second time around, fighting without hope for a victory, because you were left behind once again, you’re trapped once again, and once again no one will come to help you. But it is even harder this time around, isn’t it, Peter? The first time you had been able to kid yourself that Derek and Laura would come when they’ve licked their wounds, when they are strong enough. You had been able to kid yourself that there was someone out there who cared about you, who loved you. Is there any illusion you have left?”

“Also, don’t forget that here everyone knows who you are and what you’re capable of. You wouldn’t be able to trick our guards. You wouldn’t be able to escape. I would advise you to surrender now, but your struggling is so delicious.”

Stiles is willing to give up everything, _everything_ for this nightmare to stop. But he is also feeling a steely resolve – a willingness to fight even without a chance to win, just because _he is stronger than that_. He will not be defeated, _he will not be broken again_. Like he does not need hope, he does not need to be loved, he does not need anything to keep fighting.

Stiles gulps.

Darkness boils around him, laughs at him, consumes him, and spits him out.

Stiles opens his eyes.

He starts to scream.


End file.
